


you got me so good (baby, I got it so bad)

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Series: the Fic Fest fics [7]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, M/M, Mild Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Smoking, Smut, What's new, Yifan is an idiot but so is Junmyeon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 16:10:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19360312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: Junmyeon goes down on Kris, not knowing he knows this stranger at the club. But Yifan is not someone he could ever be interested in, can he?





	you got me so good (baby, I got it so bad)

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt Petal:** 246  
>  **Author's Note:** First of all, the patience the mods had, #bless  
> Second of all, if I mess this prompt up, I am so sorry  
> Third of all, don't @ me for the Jennie x Jongin, I drafted this when they were still dating, okay?  
> Lastly, I hope you enjoy this mess!

Junmyeon, tonight, is feeling himself. He takes the third shot of tequila, licks the salt and lime of his fingers and lets the alcohol burn down his throat. His friend, Jongin, pushes another shot glass towards him, laughing, and Junmyeon takes it, downing the fourth, then the fifth and the sixth. Jongin finds his girlfriend, beckoning her over to their table and soon, they are squished together, making out. Junmyeon makes gagging noises (Jongin flips him off) and then looks down at the dance floor.

Jongin had managed a VIP seat atop the floor, and Junmyeon can see the rest of their group dancing and grind on the floor. Sehun and Zitao are already dry humping each other, and Junmyeon has to shake his head. Looks like he is surrounded by hormones wherever he goes. He even spots Qian cozying up to a tall stranger, and Junmyeon mentally groans. He hasn’t got any action lately and now he wants some too.

Life as a university student is going not-so-great for Junmyeon. Not that he was that keen on getting an education when he knows he has to end up at his father’s office anyway. But his father won’t let him step into the Kim & Kim Industries that easily—the first condition is to graduate with honours in business and then Junmyeon _has_ to do an MBA as well. He will be carted abroad as soon as he graduates to get that MBA, and honestly, Junmyeon is toiling through his third (and last) year at the thought of leaving his family for a while. He needs a break from his life in Seoul, even though the third year has only begun.

Long story short, he hates studying. Thus, he wasn’t the one to say no when Jongin and Qian texted him to come to hang with them at one of their favourite clubs. He is also not for dancing, but he does like drinking. And the occasional one-night stand.

He stumbles to his feet and walks closer to the railing. He leans on the railing and rakes his gaze all across the floor. His gaze finally lands on a man leaning against the bar, a glass of drink in hand and as the beat changes, the man looks up, probably feeling Junmyeon’s gaze on him and perhaps, it is the alcohol, but there is something familiar about him. Junmyeon can’t place it, can’t recall the long limbs, thick thighs covered in ripped denim. The man is dressed in a green sparkly jacket, grey tank top and a heavy silver chain hangs around his neck. However, the man smirked, raising his glass and nodding at Junmyeon.

Junmyeon smiles; he downs one last shot before he heads downstairs. When he reaches the bar, he finds the man leaned back and talking to a bartender. He turns around and when his eyes land on Junmyeon, he smirks. His hair is midnight black, slicked back and the smile on his lips is dangerous, seductive and Junmyeon can’t look away. He inches closer but to his dismay, he finds the seat beside the stranger already filled by an intoxicated man. The stranger laughs and twists his waist around to pick two glasses off the counter and gesture at Junmyeon to follow him. Junmyeon can’t tell if the bubbling in his stomach is the tequila or the excitement.

They find a nook, a small table hidden from the floor and somewhat dark but not dark enough for Junmyeon to miss the almost predatory gleam in the stranger’s eyes. He licks his lips and he smiles inwardly when he sees the man following his tongue. The man clears his throat and hands him a glass, grinning, “Whiskey, neat on the rocks. You looked like a whiskey guy.”

Junmyeon laughs as he takes the glass. He looks at his legs, at the rips on his black skinny jeans and leather shirt he is wearing. He knows he looks hot. He also might be slightly drunk but he knows when a man is flirting with him, so he grins, “Oh? Very observant of you then.”

The man shrugs, “I see everything.” He takes a sip of his drink and the way he looks at Junmyeon, with his eyes hooded and calculative, Junmyeon shivers. “I, I’m Y—Kris.”

“Junmyeon.”

They only manage to finish their drinks before Kris has him pressed against the seat, his tongue tracing each corner of Junmyeon’s lips. Junmyeon sighs and parts his lips, eager to let Kris control the kiss. And Kris is _very_ dominant. He kisses Junmyeon like he has a vendetta against him like he is going to devour him whole—and Junmyeon loves it.

Kris is all teeth and tongue and large, warm hands and Junmyeon moans when Kris sucks on his tongue. He breaks the kiss and Junmyeon whines but it soon turns into a groan when Kris kisses down his neck and marks a bruise on the side of his neck. Junmyeon decides to make things easier for them, so he moves to straddle Kris. The seat is pretty much hidden from people and even if someone had to walk in on them, it won’t be much of a surprise. Junmyeon himself walked into a threesome once. This club is notorious for its lack of modesty.

Their bodies are pressed flush to each other and Kris’s hands map his back, then down the curve of his ass, lightly squeezing. Junmyeon likes that, he likes that a lot, and maybe, Kris understands it because he does it again but harder this time. Junmyeon arches into Kris, thus leading to their crotches brushing and Kris gasping. Junmyeon leans back slightly and grins, “Interesting.”

Kris smirks back, “Are you gonna do something about it or not?”

Junmyeon’s grin widens and he gets off Kris only to kneel in front of the latter on the floor. He splays his hands on Kris’s thighs, and the latter spreads his legs. Junmyeon eyes the bulge and licks his lips, suddenly eager to get his mouth on that. He cups the erection, stroking Kris over his denim and watching with bated breath as Kris seems to get even harder under his touch. Junmyeon bites his lip as he slowly unzips Kris’s pants. The man is wearing tight black briefs underneath and the cotton stretches obscenely over his cock. The pants are only at Kris’s knees when Junmyeon leans forward and rubs his lips on the tip of Kris’s still clothed cock.

Kris throws his head back and moans. His long, tapered fingers sink into Junmyeon’s hair, his fingernails scraping along his scalp. Junmyeon licks his lips again as he curls his fingers under the elastic and gets to getting Kris completely bare under him. The briefs and denim are now at Kris’s ankles and Junmyeon gasps when Kris’s cock is finally freed from its confinement. Junmyeon has to admit that this has to be the biggest thing he is about to put into his mouth.

Kris is thick but also long and Junmyeon knows he is going to be choking on that. And he _wants_ to choke on it. He grabs the root and squeezes it, which makes Kris moan all low and guttural, sending heat pooling in Junmyeon’s groin. Junmyeon mouths at the tip, just giving kittenish licks before he engulfs the tip whole and moves down till he feels the tip touching the back of his throat (moments like these, he is glad he has no gag reflex). He hollows his cheeks and starts bobbing his head, his hand following his head.

Kris is enjoying it, Junmyeon can tell by the strong grip on his hair and the deep moans. Junmyeon uses his other hand to cup Kris’s balls, rolling them, and Kris almost arches off the seat, crying, “Oh god, Junmyeon!”

Junmyeon smiles around the cock in his mouth. He increases his speed, wanting this to be fast and dirty and soon, there is precum and drool dripping down his chin and staining his expensive shirt and jeans, but he can’t care. Kris’s cock fills his mouth so well that Junmyeon can’t help but wonder how it would feel to be stuffed full of him (with a cock like that, Junmyeon won’t mind being taken in any way possible, even from behind which he hates). Maybe not today, but if he can get the number, he can definitely get some later.

Kris is close, Junmyeon can tell, yet when Kris comes, Junmyeon is still taken back by the sudden onslaught of hot, bitter cum filling his mouth. He chokes but he doesn’t stop or pull away, swallowing it all down. He milks every last drop and when Kris stop pulsing in his mouth, he finally pulls back. He is panting and there is semen and saliva all over his chin and hand but he still smiles, and Kris smiles right back. His face is flushed, his eyes are hooded as he heaves as well, trying to come down from his orgasm. Well, this was a Saturday night well-spent.

 

On Monday morning, Junmyeon watches Yifan, the faculty nerd, take his seat in the very first row and the class starts. Junmyeon zones out as usual. He pulls out his iPhone and starts scrolling through Instagram, hitting likes on every post he sees, he doesn’t even pay attention. He just wants to drown out the professor’s droning. He feels eyes on him all of a sudden and when he raises his head up to see who’s staring at him, he finds everyone with their heads turned towards the professor. He frowns; this is strange. And it happens, again and again. But every time he looks up, he can’t see anyone with their head turned towards him.

Whatever, he doesn’t care. He goes back to zoning out as he browses through an online shopping site next. He could do with the new pair of Off White sneakers. And that Kenzo sweater. Maybe those YSL jeans too; his current pair is kind of getting old anyway.

Class finally ends after two hours and as he gets up, he finds Yifan surrounded by the class idiots again. The “idiots” are a bunch of guys who entered through the college’s sports quota and share only one brain cell amongst them all. Junmyeon doesn’t know them very well but he knows their names and the tallest (still shorter than Yifan) says, “Listen, you do the assignment for us and we pay you, alright?”

Yifan is generally soft-spoken, so Junmyeon hardly hears him when he says, “I, I can’t, please, I have my own assignments to finish.”

“Fuck off, who cares, you will pass anyway. Just go suck some prof’s dick!” His friends laugh at this stupid joke but right at that moment, Yifan looks up and Junmyeon looks down at him and Junmyeon swears he sees the tiniest smirk on Yifan’s face. It’s so fleeting, Junmyeon is convinced he imagined it. Then, one of the guys, Jisoo, calls him over, “Hey, Kim!”

Junmyeon waves at Jisoo, smiling wryly. Yifan is back to staring at his trainers, and honestly, it’s kind of sick but fun to bother this tall, usually silent, Chinese student. Junmyeon walks up to Jisoo and throws his hand around Jisoo’s shoulder, grinning, “Aw Wu, you should take their assignments. I mean, whatever else will _you_ do with your free time? And with the money, you can pay for new shoes, I mean, full offense, those are ugly!”

The sports guys almost fall over laughing but Yifan is emotionless. His ears turn red, however, and he simply sends Junmyeon a look before bypassing them and walking away fast. Junmyeon, though, stands still for a moment, smile slipping off his face.

Yifan always wears spectacles, but today he had worn a different one from his usual black, broad-rimmed glasses. The way he looked at Junmyeon, the way his dark eyes glimmered beyond the narrow gold-framed spectacles, it sends a shiver running down Junmyeon’s spine but the gaze—why did it feel so familiar? They don’t talk, don’t even share too many classes but suddenly, Junmyeon gets this odd sense of déja vu.

 

Junmyeon is back at the club, hoping to run into Kris again. He only agreed to come with Qian and Jongin today because of that. He wants to see Kris again, he had been thinking about him since last Saturday. Maybe this time he can get that number. He is four (or five) drinks down—a few beers and now he is sipping a strawberry daiquiri. It is sickly sweet but the alcohol content is high and he is just drinking it for that. Tomorrow’s Sunday, he can sleep this off. What he needs after this is a good lay, so yes, that mysterious Kris figure needs to be here.

He orders another daiquiri and downs it within minutes as he eyes the dance floor. The base pulsates under his feet and the beat is quite nice. He hasn’t danced in some time, so he decides to head over there. He needs to let off steam anyway. He had a big fight with his mother _again_. It was about his MBA and other nonsense he doesn’t want to bother himself with. He knows he lacks ambition and the drive to do anything, but that doesn’t mean he needs to listen to everything that woman says. He is tired, absolutely tired of this life his parents have created for him.

But he doesn’t want to think about all that. He steps on the floor and just sways; lets the alcohol in his blood influence his limbs. He makes his way to the middle and has to unbutton his shirt as the heat gets to him. He is kind of dressed down today in his mint spread-collar shirt and ripped blue jeans. He didn’t even bother with product in his hair or makeup on his face. He just wanted out of the house and away from his mother.

Maybe it had been only five minutes, but soon he feels someone behind him, just standing. Junmyeon feels his heart rate pick up and when he turns around, he gasps. There, on the floor, under the gaudy neon lights stand Kris. Junmyeon can’t help the smile slowly turn his lips up. Kris looks good today (but then Junmyeon thinks the man looks good twenty-four seven) in his black dress pants and Versace silk shirt. Junmyeon finds another chain, this time in gold, around his neck. Without any preamble, they inch closer and soon Kris has his large hands wrapped around Junmyeon’s waist and Junmyeon has his arms around Kris’s neck.

Junmyeon is too drunk to dance properly and Kris isn’t too keen to dance in sync anyway, so they just sway to the low, seductive beat and their bodies keep pressing closer and closer till Junmyeon can feel Kris’s body heat seep into his own skin. Kris smells good today, like smoke and vanilla and black tea. Junmyeon smiles as he puts his face into Kris’s neck and feeling slightly playful, he nips along the side of his neck. He gets his response in a deep chuckle from Kris, and hands on his butt. Kris hums, “How drunk are you?”

Junmyeon whines, rubbing his face into Kris’s shoulder, “Very, very.”

“Let’s go somewhere private.”

Junmyeon wants to say to take him home—whose home? He doesn’t know, but before he can form his response, Kris is dragging him through the crowd. Soon, they leave behind the crowd and make their way towards the back of the club. There’s a door labelled FOR EMPLOYEES only, but Kris doesn’t pay it any attention and pushes the door open. Junmyeon heaves a sigh and then gulps in the fresh, cool air.

Kris lights a cigarette and offers it to Junmyeon, who takes it. He isn’t much of a smoker but he does give into the vice every now and then. He lights one for himself and moves towards the fire escape, sitting down on the fifth step. Junmyeon leans against the railing and grins, “So, hello again mysterious stranger.”

Kris smiles, his gums on display and Junmyeon can’t help but think how endearing that smile is on someone with such an intimidating face. What a delightful contrast. “Hi there, stranger.”

The way Kris says “stranger” feels odd, like he’s being sarcastic. Junmyeon rolls his eyes; okay, so he sucked his dick, but basically, at the end of the day, Junmyeon doesn’t know a single thing about Kris, does he? He blows the low tar cigarette smoke through his nose and asks, “So, who are you?”

“No one important,” Kris scoffs, exhaling the smoke as well.

“Really? That shirt is Versace.”

Kris laughs, throwing his head back. It’s a deep, throaty laugh and it is sort of sexy. Junmyeon stabs his half-finished cigarette on the railing and plops down on the seat beside Yifan, pressing his whole body against his. Kris doesn’t thwart him, just throws his arm around Junmyeon’s shoulder and pulls him close. Junmyeon watches Kris smoke through his half-closed eyes and when the cigarette is finished, Junmyeon cups Kris’s jaw and pulls him down. They kiss all slow and soft, till Kris finally has enough. He tugs at Junmyeon’s hair and the sudden pain makes Junmyeon gasp, and Kris takes this moment to slip his tongue in.

It feels amazing to be kissed like this, like Kris won’t let him breathe, won’t let this fire under his skin cease. Junmyeon is getting addicted, drunk from it, but he can’t stop it. He scrambles on to Kris’s lap. It is Kris who breaks the kiss and Junmyeon watches how he too is fighting for air and how his lips look so red and slick with saliva. God, he feels _drunker_ than before. Kris’s dark, deep eyes pierce through his soul and the low simmering in his gut feels like it always belonged there. Junmyeon kisses Kris’s chin and murmurs, “Tell me who you are Kris.”  

Kris smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He cups Junmyeon’s face and gently kisses Junmyeon’s lips before answering, “It’s better like this, right? You don’t have to know me and I don’t know you. But maybe I do, I do know you more than you know me, Kim Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon pouts; in his alcohol-addled brain, he vaguely wonders why it sounds so wrong, why his name sounds so wrong. But he doesn’t say anything, just smiles. And later, when Kris leaves him first with another breath-taking kiss, he doesn’t ask. Maybe, next Saturday night, he will learn more.

 

It’s another new week and it’s Tuesday. Monday passed in a blur with his father shouting at him and then his mother trying to calm him down as if she had no part to play in Junmyeon’s father getting mad at him. Despite everything else, one constant thought refuses to leave his head. The last Saturday night leaves Junmyeon still thinking about it, running Kris’s words over and over inside his head, now that he is sober enough to realise what felt so wrong.

_“It’s better like this, right? You don’t have to know me and I don’t know you. But maybe I do, I do know you more than you know me, Kim Junmyeon”_

What did the man mean? How can that be possible? How did Kris know his last name? Okay, sure, Kim is a common last name in this country but how could Kris say with certainty that his last name was indeed Kim? His head hurts with how much he has been thinking about that, so he decides to skip class and go smoke on the terrace.

He had a key copied a long time ago, and since the terrace remains mostly locked, he is surprised to see the doors opened today. He peeks in and finds someone seated behind the water tank and he can only see the man’s legs. Something about those trainers seems familiar. A wisp of smoke curls around the person when he bends his knees. Junmyeon is curious; he and Jongin are the only ones who come up here and he knows Jongin is in class.

He rounds the corner and who he finds surprises him, so he can’t quite control his gasp. The noise makes the man turn his head around and when their gazes meet, Junmyeon gasps some more.

It is Yifan. But without those glasses, it’s Kris. _Kris._

A wind picks up, blowing Kris’s bangs on to his eyes and he just smirks, “Guess, you finally know, huh.”

Junmyeon widens his eyes and stumbles back. His gaze falls on to those worn-out shoes and he finds Kris’s bag, his spectacles and his packet of cigarettes. Junmyeon recognises the brand, it’s the same one Kris offered to him on Saturday. There was an old armchair by this side of the water tank and he sinks on it. Kris—no, no Yifan—doesn’t pay him any attention and returns to smoking. Meanwhile, Junmyeon’s head is buzzing, his lungs are burning and he can feel the palpitations of his heart loud and clear. He murmurs, “What the fuck.”

“What the fuck, indeed,” Yifan laughs.

Junmyeon gets up from his seat and shouts, “You, you lied!”

“You,” Yifan points the cigarette at him and says, “You were too drunk to see the truth. It’s not like I took advantage of you, you consented to everything.”

Junmyeon waves his hand, “That’s not why! You lied! You’re not Kris!”

“Well, technically, the name on my passport is Kris Wu. I don’t use it much because honestly what kind of a Caucasian name is that?”

Yifan’s voice is dripping with sarcasm and a deep disappointment that Junmyeon understands is not for him. He sinks back down on the armchair and groans, putting his head into his hands. He just gave the faculty’s biggest nerd a blow job. But…he peeks at Yifan’s profile and he has to wonder. Even though Kris and Yifan share a face, they are not the same. So, Junmyeon asks, “Why this Yifan persona then?”

“It’s not a persona,” Yifan laughs. “It is who I am to people I don’t care about.” Something twists inside Junmyeon. He knows he has no business feeling hurt, but he does. He feels like he got played, so he suddenly feels a wave of deep anger settle in his gut. Yifan then softly says, “For what it’s worth, you’re a lot different than who you pretend to be. Here, a cigarette in return for keeping this to yourself.”

Yifan offers Junmyeon a cigarette again, and he takes it. He had his own lighter, so he uses that to light the cigarette. He frowns, “Why the secrecy?”

“Have you heard of Daniel Wu?”

Junmyeon nods, “Yep, I think I even saw the man once. Really tall and kinda handsome, and—” he pauses when he looks at Yifan again, and he realises how much Yifan looks like Daniel Wu, gasping, “You! All that controversy last year was because of you!”

Daniel Wu is among the biggest movie producers in the whole of East Asia. His production and distribution company have its figurative finger in whole lots of pies. The man was pushing fifty when talk arose that he had no one has a successor. Then two years ago, a news reporter tracked a woman down in Guangzhou who said Daniel had a son but his mother took the kid away to Canada since her parents didn’t want her to have a child out of wedlock. Daniel spent immense resources to bring the boy back to China. Junmyeon says, “Last I heard, he was trying to groom his kid, which means, uh, you?”

Yifan nods along, grinning, though again, the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “Kind of. That’s why I am here. He didn’t want me to go too far like California, but Seoul was okay, I guess.”

Junmyeon’s eyes are wide and he is struggling to find his words as he slowly says, “So, you, I mean—”

Yifan laughs, that throwing-his-head-back, deep, sexy one. Junmyeon gapes, suddenly remembering how he felt at that laugh last Saturday. He had thought it was the most attractive thing ever and it still is. His heart skips a beat and he suddenly realises, he is in deep trouble.

Yifan finally stops laughing and says, “Don’t worry, unfortunately for me, I am Daniel Wu’s real son.” Yifan notices Junmyeon’s flushed face and wide eyes, so he says, “Now, stop staring. I’m not offended.”

Oh, yeah, Junmyeon is _definitely_ not staring because he thought he had offended Yifan though. He is staring because he can’t help it, can’t help how his heart is currently not listening to his brain.

 

From that day on the terrace, Yifan and Junmyeon developed this weird friendship—if it can be called friendship. It has been weeks, summer is almost over. They meet at the terrace, smoke, talk shit about their parents. Yifan told him he didn’t come from an affluent life in Canada, so he desperately tries to cling to a semblance of it here and thus, refuses to lose the trainers he bought with the money from his first part-time job in high school. Junmyeon tells Yifan that since he was told to do everything since birth, he is devoid any interests, any hobbies of his own now and that’s why he can’t find the drive within himself. In a way, both don’t realise they talk way too much about themselves to each other than they do with their other friends.

“You know,” Yifan tells Junmyeon one day, “You shouldn’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Junmyeon, who was laid out on the bare minimum grass behind the old, unused garden shed, almost half-asleep, murmurs, “Do what?”

“Academically, I mean,” Yifan says, who is laid at some distance from Junmyeon on the grass as well. “I mean, stop trying to fail on purpose.”

Junmyeon cracks one eye open and grins, “You think I’m trying to not study to piss my parents off?”

“Well, yes.”

Junmyeon sighs and opens his other eyes as well. He looks up at the clear blue summer sky and sighs again, “It’s my way of rebelling I suppose.”

“Well, it’s a shit way of rebelling.”

Junmyeon frowns, raising himself up on his elbow, “Then, why are you conforming when you hate it so much?”

Yifan chuckles, “Who says I am?”

Junmyeon sits up, his eyebrows scrunched up, “What?”

Yifan touches his neck and smiles, “I agreed to college in Seoul in exchange for my freedom to launch my own company someday. I want to go into fashion and with my father’s money and connections, I know now how to make my dreams come true. He wants a successor, I want my own company. We’re both in this for something.”

Junmyeon nods. He understands that, but it makes him feel a bit morose, so he says, “That’s so nice. At least you know what you want to do, meanwhile…” He flops down on his back and sighs. He hears Yifan scoff under his breath but he doesn’t ask why. Yifan is probably collecting his thoughts and Junmyeon will hear it soon. Meanwhile, he turns his head to the side and silently appreciates the side profile.

Yifan is attractive to a fault, and Junmyeon isn’t blind. He did feel bad about encouraging others when they bothered Yifan but the man himself brushed it off, saying it didn’t matter. He has had worse. Junmyeon didn’t ask but that just made him feel ten times worse than before. Even now, Yifan refuses to be seen with Junmyeon anywhere public. He says he has a persona to maintain and he isn’t going to stay here forever, so why bother making friends? It made Junmyeon wonder what they were then. Maybe he is just a temporary company, someone to waste time with till the moment comes for Yifan to leave, go back to China and start his own venture. In a way, Junmyeon is jealous: Yifan has ambition. And in other ways, he is sad that his silly little crush will never be anything more than a crush. Yifan hasn’t tried to get any close to him, pretending like the two times in the club never happened. Junmyeon had his dick down his throat for heavens’ sake! So, Junmyeon is also low-key frustrated.

Yifan finally speaks, “Not having ambition or a goal is not always a bad thing. Everyone takes their time. Maybe do as everyone says till you can throw a plot twist at them later in life and go like, you know what? I am gonna be a musical actor now!”

Yifan turns to look at Junmyeon with a big smile and Junmyeon couldn’t help but laugh. If he told his parents he wanted to go into music, he can imagine what would come next. He covers his mouth and suddenly gets sad when he remembers. He slowly says, “When I was young, I did like music, and singing, and would sit by my cousin when he played the piano. He tried to teach me but I had no talent for that.”

Yifan murmurs, “It is never too late to start learning again.”

Junmyeon turns his gaze towards Yifan and the way Yifan looks at him, his eyes all soft and his smile all bright make his gut twist and he wants to go reach forward and kiss him. He bites that urge back down and says, “I guess.”

Yifan sits up next and the softness leaves his whole countenance as he winks, “So, singing, eh?”

Junmyeon laughs, turning on his back, “No, no, I am _not_ singing for you!”

Yifan pokes the side of Junmyeon’s thigh and whines, “Oh come on! Let’s hear from you!”

Junmyeon tries to swat Yifan’s hand away but the latter is persistent. Yifan soon tickles the side of his body and Junmyeon pretends to be not ticklish but he ends up giggling anyway. Yifan inches forward and starts tickling the other side as well. Junmyeon wants Yifan to stop because he is laughing too much and his eyes water, his lungs burn and his face is too hot but he can’t make the taller stop. He begs, “Oh, god, Yifan, please!”

Yifan is relentless and somewhere between Junmyeon trying to wriggle away and Yifan not letting him, their bodies end up pressing against each other and Junmyeon is almost in Yifan’s lap, gasping for air. When they both realise how close they have come, Yifan stops and Junmyeon’s laughter dies out. Their eyes lock on each other and suddenly, everything is too warm, too much.

Yifan is looking at Junmyeon’s mouth, which is opened slightly as he tries to push air back into his lungs. Yifan is reminded of the times he had kissed Junmyeon and he _wants_ again. Junmyeon is gorgeous, he has been aware of that since days. That night in the club was a chance encounter and Yifan was okay with knowing that Junmyeon couldn’t recognise him. But he knew his charade as Kris would end one day and it did. Strangely, Junmyeon is still here and Yifan isn’t entirely sure why.

Junmyeon’s face is burning again but this time for whole another reason. His hand ends up on Yifan’s neck and Yifan’s hand wraps around his waist. They glance at each other’s lips again and the tension is so thick, that Junmyeon almost suffocates from it. Yifan’s eyes are gleaming in the way Junmyeon has come to know. They are like smouldering embers ready to burn Junmyeon down to ashes again. And before he can collect his breath, Yifan swoops in and captures his lips in a kiss. Junmyeon almost cries, nearly moans because this, he had been wanting _this_ for so long.

Yifan kisses him with the same intensity, same hunger, and need and Junmyeon whimpers at the back of his throat. His fingers sink into Yifan’s hair and Yifan pushes him closer to his chest till Junmyeon is straddling him. Yifan keeps one hand on his waist and the other reaches down to cup his butt cheek and he squeezes down _hard_. Junmyeon gasps into Yifan’s mouth, biting down a bit too intensely on Yifan’s lower lip.

This burning under his skin, Yifan doesn’t recognise it. He has never felt like this kissing anyone before and he can’t understand his attraction towards this Korean man. The kiss breaks when they need to breathe and as Junmyeon heaves in his arms, his eyes closed, his lips all puffy and red, Yifan knows, just _knows,_ he can’t continue this. It is too dangerous, he doesn’t need attachments. So, he clears his throat and says, “We, we can’t do this.”

Junmyeon opens his eyes and Yifan’s feels like someone punched his stomach when he sees the hurt in Junmyeon’s eyes. Yifan tries to explain, “You know why, you know, I’ve told you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Junmyeon whispers. “But, why can’t we try?”

Yifan shakes his head and tries to push Junmyeon off himself (even though he doesn’t really want to). “I should’ve told you off in the club itself, I can’t, I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Junmyeon feels like his heart wants to crawl out of his throat and it makes his chest hurt. He gets off Yifan’s lap and tries again, “But, Yifan—”

“No.”

There is finality in Yifan’s tone and he doesn’t even look at Junmyeon again before grabbing his bag, his glasses and walking away, his long limbs carrying him across the field in no time. Junmyeon just stands there thinking that getting rejected sure does hurt a lot.

 

Junmyeon doesn’t know how the next month goes but it passes in a blur of getting shouted by his parents, getting dead drunk and being avoided like the plague by one Wu Yifan. Yifan doesn’t show up at the club, doesn’t appear on the terrace, rushes out from their shared class the moment it gets dismissed and even if, by mistake their gazes meet, Yifan flinches like Junmyeon is something untouchable, unwanted. Junmyeon feels like screaming. Why should he still care about someone who doesn’t care about him?

So, when he enters the cafeteria today and finds someone chatting with Yifan, all giggling and sending him heart eyes, Junmyeon sees red. He just stands there, still and seething. Yifan couldn’t be friends with him but here he is laughing with another in public. Yifan looks up and Junmyeon doesn’t look away, his jaw hardening and his hands' fisting by his side. The boy beside Yifan is oblivious as he keeps talking. Junmyeon knows him by face—Do Kyungsoo, Jongin’s classmate.

Yifan has this distinct thought that getting caught by Junmyeon was a bad idea. Though he knows he committed no crime, he and Kyungsoo just share a class and he needed notes. He is aware Kyungsoo has a crush on him but he’s not interested (no, but he knows who _truly_ interests him). But Junmyeon looks mad and disappointed and when he finally looks away, Yifan feels his chest clenching in the most uncomfortable of ways. He loses his appetite.

Junmyeon too loses the need to eat and turns around, storming away from the cafeteria. So, it’s just him then that Yifan doesn’t want to associate with. If this is how it is, he doesn’t need to care about anything else anymore. Yifan can do as he pleases.

In his blind rage, he walks into someone and when he realises, he sees it is Jongin’s girlfriend, Jennie, blinking at him in worry. She says, “Ah, Junmyeon! You okay?”

Junmyeon swallows it down and says, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay.”

“You sure?” Jennie asks, her eyes softening. “Jongin told me how you’ve been worrying him.” She sighs, running her hands through her chestnut brown hair, smiling, “Let me help, we’re friends, right?”

Junmyeon looks at her, the air finally returning to his lungs as he says, “I don’t think anyone can help.”

“You drank the whole bar last Saturday night Junmyeon, no offense, but I’m concerned too.”

Thus, Junmyeon lets Jennie take him to a café off campus and he pours out everything that happened between him and Yifan. Jennie promptly comments after Junmyeon is done, “Wow, what an asshole!”

Junmyeon chuckles, using his pinkie finger to collect the foam around the inside of his coffee cup. “I guess, in his head, it makes sense.”

Jennie takes a sip of her iced coffee and shakes her head. “No, no, there’s definitely something wrong with him. Does he see people only as things to be used, if that it is so, then don’t bother with him Junmyeon? Fuck him, well fuck him metaphorically.”

Junmyeon can’t help but chuckle but Jennie’s last few words linger and later in the day when he’s laid out on his bed, he wonders maybe she was right.

 

It’s Saturday and he’s back at the club, like always. Jennie is on his alcohol consumption duty and she hasn’t told Jongin a thing. Junmyeon is both touched and amused. To be honest, since Jongin and she started dating a few months ago, they merely shared a handful of words, but now he supposes they are friends too. And he has been a good boy so far, he is one bottle of beer down. He shall call this progress.

The night deepens and soon Jennie has to cart a drunken Jongin home. She sends Junmyeon a meaningful glare when he tells them to go ahead and he will settle the bill. He doesn’t promise anything but he does smile back, giving her a thumb up. She drags Jongin towards the exit and Junmyeon is alone finally. He does walk up to the bar, credit card in hand when he sees something that instantly enrages him. He sees Yifan down the counter, sipping some drink and smiling at some guy. This is the first time he sees Yifan in days and this is what he sees. He gnashes his teeth and takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Maybe Yifan’s feels the glare because he looks up and the smile slides off his face. He sits up straight and he looks like he is going to make a move to either leave or walk up to Junmyeon.

Junmyeon, however, isn’t interested, so he gestures at the bartender, who nods, grabbing his cheque. As the bartender leaves to return with the card machine, he feels someone standing by his side. Thinking it is Yifan, Junmyeon is ready with a scathing reply but to his surprise, it’s a stranger and he strongly reeks of vodka. Junmyeon splutters out, “Excuse me?”

The guy is older than him and taller too, and his dyed blond hair looks bad, his hair looking almost fried. Junmyeon leans away but the guy puts a hand on the counter’s edge, smirking, “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here, all alone?”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes, pressing his lips in a line, “And who told you I’m alone?”

“I saw your friends leave without you.”

Junmyeon feels his stomach twisting into a knot, his skin itching with disgust. “So, you have been watching.”

“Yes,” the guy leans forward, consuming even more of Junmyeon’s personal space. “Dance with me.”

“No, fuck off,” Junmyeon turns around, ready to pay the bill when he feels the guy inching closer to him. He can almost feel his breath brushing over his neck, and it makes him even madder than before.

“Come on baby, I don’t bite.”

“Fuck off, will you?”

Junmyeon hears Yifan’s voice and his head whips around, and he’s gaping. Well, turns out, Yifan is even taller than this guy and the guy frowns at him, “What?”

“He told you to fuck off, so why don’t you?” Yifan says, his voice low and tinged with this coldness Junmyeon doesn’t recognise.

Junmyeon opens his mouth to say something but Yifan grabs the guy’s collar when the guy tries to talk back. The guy gulps as Yifan stares him down. The guy leaves finally and Yifan turns around to look at Junmyeon. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, I had it,” Junmyeon grumbles as he turns around to swipe his card. The payment gets processed quickly and Junmyeon is ready to leave. He doesn’t want to be around Yifan right now. Obviously, he was here for another one night stand, so he won’t come between whatever is happening, even though smashing all those glass bottles behind the bartender feels tempting.

However, Yifan has other plans. He grabs Junmyeon’s elbow and says, “Did you get here on your own? I can give you a ride.”

Yifan knew Junmyeon doesn’t like driving, and since he is sans Jongin and Jennie, it is an obvious deduction. And even though the offer is tempting, Junmyeon is unwilling. He says, “Don’t you have your friend waiting for you?”

“What friend?” Yifan frowns. He looks back at the guy still waiting for him by his seat and he swallows. While Mingyu was attractive, he wasn’t really going to go through with it. He hasn’t been trying to get laid for a while now because for some reason he only likes a particular pair of lips now. Lips that are now pressed in a line, expressing the displeasure loud and clear. He clears his throat, “No, I, uh, we weren’t gonna—just let me take you home, okay?”

Junmyeon doesn’t want to argue anymore. Something inside him roars that Yifan rather be giving him a lift home than to having sex with that guy. It is another small win for Kim Junmyeon. He brusquely nods his head and waits as Yifan goes back to the guy to tell him about his departure. The guy looks a little crestfallen (Junmyeon can’t blame him) but he smiles and waves goodbye at Yifan, who just smiles. When he’s back to Junmyeon, he nods his head towards the exit and they start walking.

No other words are exchanged as Junmyeon follows Yifan to the car. Yifan drives a jeep and Junmyeon has some struggles getting on it. The car starts and Yifan asks, “So, you have to tell me your address?”

“Yeah, it’s not too far, I will tell you, just get to the main road first.”

“Okay.”

Silence reigns as Yifan drives; when they get to the main road and get stuck in traffic, Yifan sighs, “Junmyeon, can we, can we, uh, talk?”

“Why?” Junmyeon says and he is surprised to hear the hardness in his voice. He didn’t mean to sound so mean but he can’t help it. He is still pissed at Yifan. Yifan takes a deep breath and when the light turns green, he takes the turn towards the river. Junmyeon says, “Hold up, that’s not the way.”

“I know, I need to talk.”

Junmyeon shouts, “So, what? Now you kidnap me?”

“Kind of, yes.”

Junmyeon pouts but he realises Yifan probably won’t quit, so he quiets down, crosses his arms and closes his eyes. He feels the cool night air kiss his cheeks, ruffle through his hair and the sounds of the city feels muffled, like someone wrapped gauze all around it. He crawls into himself, wanting to just stay like this, like on an eternally long drive through the night where the morning never comes.

The car stops, the drive ends and Junmyeon opens his eyes. They are by the river, under a dim street light. Yifan doesn’t say anything, sighs and rubs his eyes. Junmyeon turns to look at him, his heart clenching in that way he has come to recognise. Junmyeon softly says, “What is it? Why now? Why today? You had been successfully avoiding me for months now, and now you kidnap me?”

Yifan chuckles softly, “First of all, I didn’t kidnap you, you agreed to let me get you home.”

Junmyeon sits up straight and glares (or tries to—Yifan’s gummy smile is out and he is weak, okay?) and cries, “You tricked me!” Yifan laughs, throwing his head back and Junmyeon swallows, feeling annoyed but still so infatuated. He grumbles, “It’s not fair.”

Yifan looks at him, his eyes all soft, “What’s not fair?”

“You and your stupid face,” Junmyeon whines. “Why did I have to have a crush on you of all people?”

“You have a crush on me?” Yifan asks and his eyes widen, like he can’t believe what Junmyeon is saying. He points at himself, “Me, of all people?”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you’re an asshole, you hate everyone, even yourself and you think the world ending tomorrow will a mighty fine event, but you’re hot and you kiss me like I’m going crazy and you say nice things to me sometimes. Like, hey, I was actively looking for piano lessons near me that day.”

Yifan is still shocked but he tries to reel it in, swallow the surprise down and he turns away, looking down at his steering wheel as he mumbles, “This is why I’m scared of you.”

Junmyeon hears him loud and clear, “Scared of me? I’m like five feet eight inches of angst and hatred and you’re like eight feet of doom and gloom.”

Yifan bursts out in laughter, and Junmyeon follows. Yifan turns to look back at him and leans forward, cupping Junmyeon’s face, his eyes twinkling, “Do you think doom and angst go well together?”

Junmyeon suddenly can’t breathe and he can only feel his pulse beating in his ears, kind of understanding the meaning behind Yifan’s words. He leans into Yifan’s touch and says, “Well, you do make me happy.”

“I do?” When Junmyeon nods, he smiles, “You make me happy too. I know we only met to talk shit, but those few hours were the only time I didn’t have to pretend.”

Junmyeon leans forward. “I don’t feel like pretending.”

Yifan whispers, “Me too.”

Their lips meet, again and again, in tender, barely-there kisses, but it seals a confirmation, it is something new, it is a new promise and maybe it will be another long ride that doesn’t need to end so soon. So, when they pull back, they can’t help but smile, feeling like this is okay and they can totally do this.

 

Tuesday morning begins with campus buzzing about the new couple. Jongin hears the news and asks Jennie, “What? Junmyeon is dating someone? Who is this Wu Yifan person?”

Jennie raises her eyebrows as she sips her water. Then she smiles, “That’s good news, very, very good news.”

Jongin frowns; his girlfriend smiling is making him suspicious. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Jennie hums, “Well when I texted him on Sunday morning, he sent me this.” She brings her phone out and shows Jongin the image of Junmyeon lying next to Yifan with a big goofy smile on his face. They are both clothed—and thank god for that—in the picture and Yifan is sleeping on his back.

Jongin splutters, “What, what the fuck? He told you and not me?”

Jennie laughs, “Oh, Nini, sorry for stealing your best friend.” She ruffles his hair and Jongin swats at her hand, still grumbling. She winks at him, “Guess, why he didn’t come to class yesterday?”

Jongin narrows his eyes, “Why?”

Jennie swipes through her gallery and shows Jongin the selfie of Junmyeon and Yifan by the beach. She pouts, “He took Junmyeon to the beach and when was the last time we went to the beach?”

Jongin bows his head, blushing, “I will take you soon, I promise!”

“Uh huh.”

Jongin kisses his girlfriend’s cheek, still silently pleading for forgiveness. Jennie just smiles and leans into him, putting her head on his shoulder. She gets a message on her phone and she finds it’s from Junmyeon. She opens it and laughs; Jongin peers over her head and reads the message. Junmyeon is telling Jennie how Yifan talked back to the bullies and it was beautiful. Jongin whines, “You _have_ stolen my best friend!”

**Author's Note:**

> Story title is taken from Hilary Duff's 'All About You'


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